


ain't nothing please me more than you

by hihoplastic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/pseuds/hihoplastic
Summary: The museum in their little town on Darillium, as far as the Doctor is concerned, can hardly be called that. It’s a small, square building with only two floors, and most of the objects are broken vases or bits of common jewelry. They don’t have much by way of major archaeological finds, so he doesn't quite understand why River had been so insistent on coming here.
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	ain't nothing please me more than you

**Author's Note:**

> \- for @rocketoo7, who requested "river wielding a sword"  
> \- title from "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros  
> 

The museum in their little town on Darillium, as far as the Doctor is concerned, can hardly be called that. It’s a small, square building with only two floors, and most of the objects are broken vases or bits of common jewelry. They don’t have much by way of major archaeological finds, so he doesn't quite understand why River had been so insistent on coming here. 

There aren’t even any of their efforts to be seen, which always makes him a bit grumpy. River just rolls her eyes when he tells her this, smirking. 

“Not every museum is your personal scorecard,” she teases. 

“Not every exploding ship is opportunistic,” he retorts, and River laughs. 

“Of course it is, darling,” she says, and kisses his cheek and continues to mosey through the museum, stopping in front of every artifact and painting. She knows so much about so many cultures, he forgets for a while to be annoyed, listening to her chatter excitedly about what a cracked vase meant to the local culture or correcting the plaque about a hand-woven blanket. 

She leans into him in front of a smooth, cylindrical object, where the note on the side boasts its use in grinding seeds and spices. 

“Wrong kind of grinding,” she grins, and the Doctor huffs. 

“Seriously?” 

She nods, moves around the glass so she can point at the base of the object. “See the engraving? It’s the symbol of their fertility goddess. They believed the more orgasms you could give a woman, the more likely she’d bear a child.” 

She says it a bit loudly, and the other couple wandering around widen their eyes and look down at the floor, hurrying away, and the Doctor stares at her for a moment with a frown. 

“You’re making that up.” 

River grins shamelessly. 

The Doctor huffs, but can’t help smirking at her antics, and they continue to peruse the museum, wandering up to the second floor. River takes her time, and the Doctor lets her, doesn’t mind so much when she’s walking so close to him, flirting and telling him outrageous stories that may or may not be true. 

He even finds “one of his” at one point, a cracked jewel from a few planets over that nearly caused a war. He stepped in, and the day was saved, and Amy and Rory were there so he tells River the story, embellishing just a little. 

He smiles fondly at the memory of her parents, of their adventures, and turns to River to see what she’s thinking, feeling; but she isn’t paying any attention to him. Isn’t even at his side. He frowns, and looks around, and finds her a few displays over, staring at a large sword mounted on the wall. 

“You haven’t been listening to a word I said.” 

“Sorry, darling,” she says, not sorry at all, arms folded across her chest as she stares at the sword, a twinkle in her eye.. 

He sighs. “What’s this, then?” 

“Don’t you recognize it?” 

He narrows his eyes, but dutifully looks closer. It’s long and silver, with gems along the hilt, and faded but ornate engraving along the blade. It looks familiar, too familiar, and he stares at it, and thinks, and then his eyes widen and he knows immediately there’s about to be trouble. 

“Is that—”

“Iberez,” she agrees. “The sword of Queen Umata.” 

“I means ‘god-slayer.’” 

“I know.” 

“What’s it doing here? It’s supposed to be under lock and key in the Tutonian Palace on Denu.” 

River leans forward and looks at the plaque. “They’re calling it a late 13th century ceremonial sword from Cheem. ‘Acquired from an anonymous personal donor.’” 

“So, stolen.” 

“Almost definitely.” 

He sighs. “You’re gonna steal it back, aren’t you.” 

“Of course not,” River says. “ _We’re_ going to steal it back.” 

The Doctor sighs, and glances around the room. There’s a guard stationed at the opposite end of the room, looking bored. There were two security officers downstairs as well, but he isn’t too worried about any of them. 

“We could just leave it,” he tries.

River snorts. “When the Tutonians find out it’s missing, if they haven’t already, it’ll incite civil war. They’ll blame the Ostas. Besides, it doesn’t belong in a museum—it’s a living relic, it belongs with its people.” 

“How do we know it wasn’t taken after the Revolution?” 

She points to the hilt. “See the rubies? One goes missing in the Revolution. So it hasn’t happened yet.” 

The Doctor sighs. “Make a distraction, shall I?”

“Be a dear?” 

He rolls his eyes, but returns to the guard in the corner, starts asking him questions and maneuvering so his back is to River. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she plucks a small bolt of tools from her pocket, prepared, and he thinks he should feel duped—she’d clearly known it was here, is clearly why she wanted to visit in the first place, but instead, he just feels a bit smug. _His_ wife. Hell in high heels, indeed. 

It’s only a few minutes and River has liberated the sword from the wall, somehow managing to not set off the alarms—he doesn't ask—and she turns, grins at him. He can’t help it. He grins back, and the guard turns and sees her standing there, sword in hand. 

“Hey!” he shouts, reaching for his baton. There are a few other couples in the museum that look up, gasp and dart for cover as River swings the sword around effortlessly. The guard turns and slams the alarm before he runs at her; River easily sidesteps him, trips him with a well-placed foot and hurries to where the Doctor stands. 

“Run?” 

He grabs her free hand. 

The museum isn’t well protected, and it isn’t difficult to escape. River knocks a few guards off their feet, the ones who even bother trying to fight her, and they escape just as the police round the corner. They take off, running through the town square with shouts behind them. 

“You realize we’re never going to be able to show our faces here again,” the Doctor grumbles loudly, a bit morosely. There’s a tea shop here he really likes, and eyes it sadly as they run past. 

They get cornered in an alley, two police with guns pointed at them, and River steps in front of him without a moment’s hesitation, swinging the sword with an ease and arrogance that makes the Doctor a bit hot under his collar. 

“Hello, boys,” she says. 

They open fire, and River moves the sword through the air like it’s nothing, deflecting each shot. Though worried, the Doctor quickly scales the short wall behind them, waiting at the top. The guards look stunned, confused, and the Doctor watches as River moves seamlessly, ducking and slicing the sword through bullets like it’s nothing. They run out of amo fairly quickly, need to reload, and River uses the opportunity to hoist herself up, following him. She gives the guards a cheeky salute before she drops over the other side of the wall, and they run. 

“Do I want to know where you learned to do that?” 

“My training was very thorough,” she says, and he glares. 

“You were going to kill me with a sword?” 

“If the opportunity presented itself.” 

“Rude.” 

River grins. 

They make it back to the TARDIS fairly quickly, without much hassle, though they can hear sirens in the distance. He’s a bit out of breath when they close the door behind them, and watches as River bounds up to the console and keys in the coordinates for Denu. 

They’re praised upon the sword’s return, given a feast in their honor, and River basks in the attention, flirting outrageously with the Queen and accepting all manner of gifts. 

By the time they make it back to the TARDIS, it’s two days later and he’s certain he’ll never be hungry again, but he makes them cups of tea and follows River out into their backyard on Darillium, where she’s settling a little marble statue (the Queen insisted) into her garden. 

On the table on their patio is the brochure for the museum, and he flips through it idly, reads the section on the sword, and frowns. It’s a blurry picture, and the description is inaccurate, and he frowns at her, setting the mugs down. 

“How did you know it was that sword? This picture is rubbish.” 

River glances back at him over her shoulder. “What other sword would it be?” 

He thinks about that; thinks about the way River had gone straight for it; thinks about the reception they were met with, the story the Queen told about how it had simply gone missing the night before, no trace at all of an intruder. He thinks of River’s smile, her nods, the little gleam in her eye, and he sighs. 

“‘Anonymous personal donor.’” 

River stands, brushing dirt off her knees and smirks. 

“You stole it in the first place.” 

“Girl’s gotta keep busy.” 

He huffs. “Why? Husband not entertaining enough?” 

She hums, moving closer, winding her arms around his neck and he sinks into her without resistance, settling his hands at her waist. 

“Oh, he’s plenty entertaining. I just don’t want him to get bored.” 

He snorts. “Bored? With you? Never.” 

River smiles, soft and warm. “Thank you, darling.” 

The Doctor shakes his head, but can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips in response. “You couldn’t have just asked for it back?” 

“More fun this way,” she says, and kisses him sweetly.


End file.
